Some Days

Some days
start out
at the bottom of a well, looking up
thrashing makes the chilled water slap my face
and flood my eyes.

My singing
echos
bounces off the walls and travels upward
hopefully someone will hear.

Other days
start out
with the warmth of the sun on my skin
I have to close my eyes
to shield them from the brightness
the warm breeze tugs at the corners of my mouth
like puppet strings.

My singing
spills out
like a volcano filled with honey.

Everyone can hear.

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3 responses

  1. Some days, I just want to jump in the car and drive right to Ptown! And really, I will. I have been in that well, so many times, and blinded just as many… life is full of amazing moments that shred you and fill you with bliss. Beautiful poem M!

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